


I Kinda Wanna Be More Than Friends

by Michi27



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Sam, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Possessive Gabriel, Possessive Sex, Sabriel - Freeform, Smut, Top Gabriel (Supernatural), Top Gabriel/Bottom Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michi27/pseuds/Michi27
Summary: After Sam moved into the apartment next door to Gabriel, somehow a flu brought them together and made them best friends. And... just best friends. But Sam has always kinda been the hottest thing Gabriel's seen and after a sweaty evening spent in each other's company after the power goes out, the way Gabriel looks at him makes Sam realize just how much he really wants Gabriel.But Gabriel doesn't have much family, and Sam means so much to him. Can he push past his fear of losing Sam to be with him?





	I Kinda Wanna Be More Than Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to Michelle and Roo, my dear, awesome, understanding, encouraging, empowering friends.
> 
> Roo, although this isn't your birthday fic, at least it's *a* fic posted *on* your birthday. I get points for that right, hehe?? I worked super hard and extra fast to get it postable by today, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY <3 I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Michelle, this fic is your fault. You really shouldn't encourage me. It's nearly impossible to resist you :-3
> 
> Okay, one more note:  
> The title is based off of Neon Trees' song "Animal," which I realized halfway through writing this kind of fit the fic really well in a lot of ways.
> 
> Okay, enjoy!

The first time Sam and Gabe met was nothing spectacular. It was the day Sam moved in. He was exhausted and tired and they introduced themselves just outside their apartments. They lived right next door to each other but they didn't talk much until about a week later when Gabriel caught the flu. Suddenly his neighbor was knocking on his door toting tomato and rice soup, kleenex, popsicles, drugs, and half a dozen other flu necessities. He'd claimed he could hear Gabriel's "pathetic moaning" through the wall so " _Just let me in, I'm not an axe murderer you idiot._ " Like the neat freak Gabriel soon discovered he was, after he sat Gabriel down, propped up his socked feet, fed him soup and crackers, and made him choke down half a gatorade and some pills, he cleaned Gabriel's living room, washed Gabriel's dishes, and threw out all the rumpled tissues on his bedroom floor. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Gabriel moaned when Sam tugged open the door to his closet.

"I'm looking to see if there's any expensive electronics or secret stashes of gold jewelry in your closet so I can rob you blind. I'm looking for a broom, duh."

Gabriel almost, almost smiled, but his nose was stopped up and his head felt waterlogged and his throat hurt and his stomach wasn't sure if it was going to keep down that tomato soup and everything _hurt_ , so he couldn't quite manage it. He smiled on the inside. And then proceeded to ask what the fuck his basically-a-stranger neighbor wanted with his broom, as Sam made a little "ah-ha" noise and pulled his dollar store brush broom and dustpan out.

"There's crap all over your floor."

Gabriel waited patiently, one eyebrow lifted. "And?"

"And I'm sweeping it up," he said, like it was obvious.

After a few moments of letting his flu-sick brain turn this information over and gathering his strength to speak again, he decided he didn't even care. If this probably-hot-but-too-sick-to-notice skinny dude wanted to sweep his floor, he could have at it. Gabriel dropped his head back, told him to have fun, and proceeded to fade into unconsciousness. 

When he came to, feeling less horrible but stopped up and with a terrible crick in his neck, he was surprised to find his neighbor still there, sprawled out on the couch across from him, his nose in a book from right off his shelf and a steaming cup on the coffee table.

At that point, rested and not feeling like his head was about to explode, he actually got a chance to examine him for a few seconds. It didn't take him long to like what he saw. He ignored that when he said, "You comfortable? Maybe want to curl up in my bed instead? There's a pillowtop and a quilt and it's very snuggly." 

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, sitting up, slipping a bookmark in the book, and setting it down all in one smooth motion. "Actually I scooped those up too while you were unconscious. They're being bid on on ebay as we speak."

Gabriel actually snorted this time.

"Figured if I left I wouldn't be able to get back in and I wanted to stay to..." he looked a little uncomfortable, but he couldn't get out of it now, so with a steely look in his eyes, muttered, "make sure you were okay."

There was a sassy retort on the tip of Gabriel's tongue, but for some reason... he bit it off. Tilted his head. "Well, what are you reading?" he questioned instead, eyeing the white spine and thinking he knew already.

Blinking in surprise, Sam picked the book back up. "It's called _Sabriel_?" he said it with an upswing to his voice. "By... Garth Nix?" 

"Oh, one of my favorites. You pulled that right off my shelf, didn't you," he accused.

"I totally did. It's pretty good so far."

"Only one of the best fantasies ever. Well," Gabriel sighed, leaning back. "Since you're here, you might as well read it to me."

Sam snorted, but after a calculating look, he picked up the book, found where he left off, and started reading.

And somehow, that was the beginning of a friendship. Somehow Gabriel always seemed to get a kick out of Sam, and he always tried any weird green thing Sam cooked at least once, Sam's official guinea pig. Somehow... they just clicked, they just worked, and they were best friends.

It was six months later when Sam went back to his hometown to bury his dad that he gave Gabriel a key "to water my plants while I'm gone. Don't you dare mess with my tv settings!" He just never asked for it back, and a month later, Gabriel passed him his key with a shrug, "You've already robbed me of my high tech electronics, hidden stash of jewelry, pillowtop, and quilt, ya might as well have the rest of it."

They spent most evenings at one or the other of their apartments, watching tv, talking about work, drinking beer. Gabriel met Dean and Castiel and Sam met Balthazar, and suddenly they were all friends. Gabriel was part of the Sam's group. Sam was friends with Balthazar, and they were... ya know, friends. That's what they were. They were good friends. They were awesome friends. They were... _just_... friends.

Apparently. 

As much as Sam found himself watching Gabriel when he couldn't see.

Even though Gabriel decided it was a good time to go grocery shopping every time Sam got a little nookie at the homebase. Or have a drink or two or three at the bar down the road. Or maybe even go to the fucking gym where Sam convinced him to get a membership nine months ago that'd he'd only used for the frozen-vanilla-yogurt-blueberry smoothies--and of course to watch Sam sweat. In a totally non creepy way. Ahem.

They were just friends. For some reason they jumped into friendship without considering anything else, and Sam was... you know, cool with that. He was just happy to have Gabriel in his life.

And Gabriel was totally cool with it. Being _something else_ never crossed his mind. Sure, Sam was super cute with his hair and that smile and those eyes, and maybe he did catch himself eyeing the sweat on his body once or twice or, like, every time he came back from a run and Gabriel just, you know, happened to be there, or when he sat beside him at the gym and drank his smoothie, watching his pecs flex as he lifted weights, shirtless.

But none of that mattered. None of that meant _anything_. Sam and Gabriel were content in their relationsh-- _friendship_. In their friendship.

This... This is how it started. Went on for nearly a year before... Well, before. Sam sighs, his lips thin. He remembers that first night when things really started to change. Well, he remembers most of it anyway. They were a little bit drunk, just for the fun of it at first, but then the fucking power went out because of a power surge at the plant. The AC kicked off and in the middle of June, it got hot. Fast.The cold beers were popped open, and Sam and Gabriel lay sprawled across the couch in Sam's living room, laughing and talking and bitching about the heat.

"And don't forget," Gabriel chuckled, "Swapping out all of Dean's cassettes with new ones full of--"

"--Of Japanese pop!" Sam laughed, nodding along as remembered the horrified look that came over Dean's face.

"That took _helluva_ long time," Gabriel laughed. "We were both working on them--"

"--The entire two months before the trip! Right up to the last morning when we were finishing the labels for each of them."

"Well we had to make them look _identical_ 'cause Dean, ya know."

"Dean would totally have noticed something was off before he even put it in if they weren't _identical_ , but we couldn't get our hands on his shoebox until _that morning_ when Dean let me bring his car here to load up the gear." Sam rehashed, almost crying as the mirth spilled over, wiping his eyes and gasping for breath and taking a long draw on his sixth? Seventh? beer.

"Damn, but the horror on his face when he put that first tape in," Gabriel shook his head, dragging a hand across his forehead and the sweat collected there. 

"It was so worth it." Dean's bug-eyed, slack-jawed, flushing face was forever imprinted in his memories

"I can't believe how stoic you looked! I was _barely_ containing my giggles in the backseat, and you were just straight-faced and looking at Dean with-with this _look_ ," Gabriel chortled. "He flushed so hard and he barked out profanities for _five minutes_ before you cracked!"

"Oh god," Sam laughed, pressing the base of the cold bottle to his temple.

When the laughter died down and they sank into content silence, the heat seemed to decide then was a great time to remind them of its overwhelming presence. Waves pulsated over Sam, down his back, pounding behind his eyes, slicking behind his ears, moistening his eyebrows. He shifted in his seat, trying to get a little air around him. "Damn, it's hot." His shirt stuck to him. He peeled it away from his skin, fanning himself with it. The air touched his damp chest and it felt too dang good. It might have been the alcohol, but Sam didn't even hesitate with his fingers on the hem of his shirt. He set his beer down and then tugged the back of it over his head and dropped it on the floor with a sigh, immediately leaning back into his corner of the couch and stretching out his legs. Not for the first time he was grateful he'd gone for the cloth couch instead of leather.

It wasn't until he picked up his beer again that he noticed Gabriel's eyes on him. They were--they were _different_. There was something in them that wasn't there before. A deepness he had noticed fill Gabriel's eyes a few times before, usually when he thought Sam couldn't see. Just like then, just like... fucking always, a throb of... warm curiosity he didn't look at too closely pulsed from his chest to the tips of his toes and the heat in between. Honey amber, deep, dark, and sweet, roved over his shoulders, down to his toned stomach and back up again. Sweat cooled on his skin, _prickled_ on his skin, a bead rolling over his tight abs and slicking down his side.

"That feel good?" Gabriel asked with a raised eyebrow. Those fucking eyebrows.

Sam swallowed, shifting in his seat and moderately worried about what his soft sweats might reveal. Gabriel just watched him though. Just watched him. "Feels amazing." 

Gabriel's shorter legs dropped over Sam's, so they were both sitting sprawled, their feet hanging over the edge. Gabriel took a sip of his beer. He didn't take his eyes off him.

With a jerk of his chin, Sam suggested, "It's damn hot in here. Feels better when the air can touch your skin. Maybe you oughta..." He trailed off, but the unworded suggestion was implicit.

A long stretch of silence passed. Gabriel just watched. His amber eyes dark. And then he shook his head. "Nah, I'm good."

The surprising twinge of disappointment that cut in Sam's chest was hidden by draining the last of his beer. He wanted another, he wanted... He wanted to get even more smashed. But Gabriel's legs pinned him to the couch and for some reason, his stare had him trapped just as well as his legs.

In complete silence they sat there for... a long time. Gabriel drank his beer, set the bottle next to the others on the coffee table, and returned piercing gaze to Sam. They just... they watched each other.

Seconds ticked by. Minutes? Sweat dripped down Sam's body, soaked into his sweats, moistened the skin under his knees. Gabriel's tongue flicked out and licked his lips. Sam wondered if they were salty. The silence was complete and yet heavy.. heavy with... He didn't know. 

Something he was... pretty sure he wanted.

The AC rattled when it kicked on with a whir that settled into a hum, two lights sprung on, the fridge made a trundling sound. With the breaking of the silence, the return of the light, whatever freaky spell had come over them burned away, and Gabriel noted the time on his watch. He made a quick exit. And then Sam was alone, drunk and shirtless and sticky with sweat.

He dropped his remaining clothes outside the shower. It was a surprise to find, ten seconds after stepping in, that his cock was already hard. 

Just barely warm water hit his back as he gripped himself, fisted himself. He pumped quick and tight, tired but too horny to ignore, wishing he'd thought to grab his lube from his bedside drawer before stumbling in here. Ah, well, the conditioner would do. 

It felt like barely minutes before he came, moaning and panting, his head turned down, his eyes shut, locks of hair heavy, wet, and dripping. He came hard and fast, pleasure rippling through him. He came to amber eyes dark with lust.

 

________________________________________________

 

Everything basically went back to normal after that, and Gabriel was... somewhere between relieved and like, kind of disappointed. Ok actually disappointed. More than kinda. Quite a lot more actually. Like soul-crushingly depressed for a week, growly, leave-me-alone-it's-my-man-period-mood-swing disappointed. 

Not that he let on or anything, other than maybe being possibly a little more irritating than usual, to everyone but Sam of course. Because Sam couldn't know his weird momentarily confused feelings.

Especially after Sam wasn't home all day or night the day after that and came back the next morning smelling like someone else's shampoo, his shoulders tension-free. So Sam hooked up with somebody. The very next day. Which was cool. That was cool. They were just friends after all. Gabriel was totally, completely, entirely cool with that. No really.

And Sam was, like, his only friend, besides Bal. He loved Bal, he did, but when most of your family is dead and the one parent and distant cousin who're alive don't want you because of your sexuality, it's really awesome having someone you can rely on living right the fuck next door. Sam meant an awful-fucking-lot to Gabriel ever since that day almost a year ago he'd brought him soup and tidied his apartment like a lunatic.

So what he was the hottest thing Gabriel ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. So what they had some weird moment a couple nights ago. So what he almost came in his pants because he was humping the furniture sixty seconds after shutting himself in his apartment, biting his fist to keep from moaning Sam's name when he came.

Sam was his friend. One of his only friends. And that meant more to him than... well, honestly, anything at all. He wasn't going to mess it up because of some random feelings that got confused when he was drunk.

He didn't say anything. Sam sure as fuck didn't say anything. It barely took two minutes and some wisecrack about using protection for the tension to snap and everything to go back to how it was supposed to be.

Gabriel's eyes narrow as he remembers another night. A night when they were out kinda like this really.

They were in a bar, like, a month later. It was Sam's one-year anniversary of moving into the apartment next to Gabriel's, _and_ the one-year anniversary of the first time they met, even though they hadn't really connected until a week later when Gabriel caught that flu. 

So they were celebrating because Gabriel knew what a gift he was to Sam's life. ("Yeah, yeah, _such_ a gift. The next round is going on your tab.") Celebrating Sam's move and celebrating their friendship (just friendship), they were out drinking. Ordering one of every appetizer, being idiots, singing karaoke, and _drinking_. Chilling bros (just bros).

It was pretty awesome. Totally awesome. Best friends. This was how it was supposed to be. And Gabriel was perfectly happy posting all the goofiest pictures of slightly-drunk Sam belting "Renegade" at the top of his lungs to facebook. He totally didn't notice the way Sam's hips pulsed to the beat mid-song or how his throat stretched unmarked and gorgeous when he threw his head back and jived. He'd practically forgotten that weird moment when the power went out a month ago. He really didn't stare at his perfectly timed photo of Sam when his hand was in the air, his hips out, eyes shut, and his collar bones standing prominent under his throat. He didn't think about biting them either. That's _not_ what friends _do_.

He didn't post that one though.

Wasn't silly enough.

They were in their third bar of the night, and it was actually getting pretty damn late. "Okay, as awesome as these Ultra Mile High Fiery Hot Double Loaded Cheesy Nachos are, I'm gonna have to call it quits," Gabriel mumbled, and then blinked in amazement with himself. "Dude, I just said it!" They were both, clearly, a little drunk, but they'd been trying to say the entire name of those nachos in one go without stumbling for half an hour.

Sam's multi-colored eyes were wide in the booth across from him. "Dude, you tot-ull--tot--totally did." A tongue flicked out to wet his lips after that slur and Sam shook his head, clearing the haze on his brain. "I can't believe you got me drunk again."

Gabriel snorted, less drunk than Sam, but still definitely tipsy. "Right, like _I'm_ the one who ordered all those rounds on _my_ tab."

"Well you were being a moron." Sam grinned, a flash of white that was kind of adorable. " _Plus_ ," he jabbed his finger accusingly at Gabriel. "You made me drink that strawberry concoction." 

"One sip! Two bars ago!"

Sam busted out laughing so much he swayed into the wall and kind of just... leaned there. "It was all you. Don't deny it. I know what you were doing."

"Oh yeah?" Gabriel questioned, amused. "Please, fill me in on my great master plan." 

Sam blinked sleepily at him with a smile still on his lips. "You wanted to get me drunk so you could get into my pants."

Suddenly, there was ice cold water dumped over his head. Or was that just his imagination? Oh yeah, just his imagination then. But now it was like, really abruptly uncomfortably hot in there. Huh. That was an abrupt shift.

After a split second of stunned silence, Gabriel recovered. He laughed. Shook his head. "What? No I don't. I do not. The fuck are you even drinking? We're friends, just friends, Sam."

He realized his mistake the second he said it. He'd called him _Sam_. He only called his best friend by his proper given name when it was important. Fuck. A little prayer up went up to heaven that his drunken companion wouldn't notice.

"Ha!" Sam said, tilting his head back, exposing the late-o'clock shadow on his jaw, the slope of his throat. "Liar. You got me drunk just like you did that-that night." His hand waved vaguely in the air, but with cold certainty, Gabriel knew which "night" he was referring to. 

Okay, so, Sam hadn't noticed the slip. This was probably worse. 

"Okay," Sam went on before Gabriel could collect himself, "so it wasn't _reeaally_ your fault I got drunk that night. It was the power com-pan-y. But..." he made a cutting gesture, "same difference." His head fell back just that much more. A sneaky little smile twirked up his lips. "You think I'm hot."

Fuck. What the fuck was going on? _He's drunk_ , he thought. _He's just drunk. Doesn't know what he's saying_. "I think I'm gonna move this over here," Gabriel replied with a chuckle, placing Sam's mostly-empty-anyway beer glass on the opposite end of the table.

White teeth showed with a little crooked smile as Sam rubbed a hand over his chest. Stopped over his right pec. Did a little circle with his palm. Fuck, was he--he wasn't--

It was fucking hot in there. Really, really--

That tongue slid over white teeth. Right side to left side. Slowly. Sam's chin tilted down just a smidge, his gazed leveled on Gabriel. Watching. "I'd let you, you know."

Ice water. Hot flash. 

"W-What?" _He didn't mean it. Couldn't mean it. He's-He's drunk._

"'Let you'?" Sam shook his head at his own wording, lowering his eyebrows all serious like. " _Want_ you to. Have sex with me. Want you to. Want _you_."

Oooh god the room was spinning. A flush of heat rushed through Gabriel's groin, throbbed in time with the thump of his heart. _He's drunk, he's drunk, he's drunk_. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. _He doesn't mean it. We're just friends. Just friends. He's coming onto me because he's--because--because he's horny and drunk_. Gabriel couldn't manage a laugh, but he shook his head, said something about needing to get Sam to bed--immediately flushed and re-worded that sentence--and then made a mad dash for the the bathroom.

Damnit, he was usually better at keeping his head.

Inside he pressed up against the door and breathed long and slow, then checked the three stalls to make sure they were empty before he shut himself up in the one on the end. 

His hands were shaking. The button popped off his shirt when he tried to open it, bounced along the floor and rolled away. Gabriel hadn't noticed. He just needed to let in some air, just needed some air. He didn't even know what he was doing, just leaning against the graffiti scrawled wall and rocking his hips. Rocking his hips. Why the fuck was he--

Gabriel actually looked down at his crotch in confusion. His eyes bugged at the sight of the bulge. He was... hard? A palm settled over it, rubbed over it, just to confirm that was really him, he was... Yeah, he was _hard_ because of _Sam_. I mean, yeah, sure, Sam might have, kinda, interrupted his thoughts when he was jacking off from time to time, but that was just... That was late night... confused... Gabriel didn't even know what. This was... different. The cool tile of the wall soothed the raging heat on his forehead as he gritted his teeth. He knocked his head against that wall a couple of times, his palm still on his crotch. Still rubbing gently. 

He didn't even look when he popped the button and drew down the zipper, slowly, slowly, feeling the buzz of metal along his hardness. He didn't look when he pushed down his underwear and drew his throbbing dick into the air. He could feel it pulse when he wrapped his fingers around it, and he groaned into the wall, leaning on it even more, before he got up the courage to tilt his head and look at himself. 

The sight of his dick in his hand wasn't exactly new. The sight of his dick in his hand in a bar bathroom stall with the knowledge that Sam was waiting outside--that was new. A small sound rasped through his parted lips when he drew his dry hand down his length. He wasn't just... _hard_ , he was aching. _Aching_. Precome was beaded at his tip. 

Oh god, he shouldn't be doing this. But he didn't have time to wait for his cock to go down, and if he went back out there and got hard again where Sam could see...

Gabriel shut his eyes and licked the palm of his hand.

He was _aching._

Wet heat wrapped around him. Slid down his length. Swiped the precome from his tip and swirled it around his head.

Fuck. Sam. Sam, with those eyes that were gentle and playful and sincere. Sam with the hair that was just long enough to tangle his hands in, get a handle on. Just long enough to pull him in and kiss him.

A whimper pitched in his tiny stall. Quiet, quiet. His tight fist picked up speed, started making lewd, wet sounds. 

He could bury his hands in that hair. He could-He could push Sam gently to the ground. Feed him his cock. Pleasure rippled through him at the vision. Sam with his pretty cupid lips wrapped around him. Sam with his gorgeous playful eyes, looking up at him, dark, dark. Dark as they were that night.

He swiped at his head, spread his precome around, jacked himself.

_You're so gorgeous. So generous. So smart. Fuck, Sam, look at you._

Sam's hands, his long fingers, gripping himself as Gabriel used his perfect, perfect mouth. _Jesus christ._

A moan warbled from him and he pushed his forehead against the wall, hard. 

Fuck, Sam's neck, his throat, his perfect throat. He wanted to bite him, nibble at him, leave marks up to his jawline, down his prominent, jutting collar bones. He'd suck on those collar bones for days.

" _Hhnngh, Sam,_ " he panted. "Sam," he whispered. He was so close, he was so fucking close. His thumb swiped over his sensitive slit. His fingers squeezed. He _tugged. So close, so close_ \--

The bathroom door creaked as it opened, and Gabriel squeezed the base of his cock as it throbbed, _right_ on the precipice. He held his breath to keep in his whimpers. _Don't think, don't think, don't think_. His cock was so sensitive, so close, if he thought he would come. Fuck, _fuck_. 

The sound of a zipper preceded the expected noice of a dude relieving himself at a urinal. Gabriel's forehead pressed against cool tile. 

Sam's gorgeous sideways smile. Sam's laugh. Sam's steadfast morals.

_Don't think, don't think, don't think._

Sam's loyalty. Sam's perfect, sharp triangle nose. Sam's long-ass legs. Sam's legs, wrapped around him.

Gabriel's hand tightened on his dick, as he prayed crazy, wordless, jumbled prayers to heaven. The sound of zipper, the creak of the door, the click of the hinge. Silence. Perfect, blessed--

" _Nnngh_ \--" Gabriel swiped at his dick, hard, fast--fast-- _fuck_. Just a couple of swipes, just a couple of swips and--" _S-Saaam_!" His orgasm washed over him like a rolling wave. For a split second, his body whited out--

\--And then everything came crashing back down on him. Hot pulses of come shot from his dick in streaks. His knees trembled--threatened to give out--and then steadied as Gabriel remembered where he was. Bar bathroom stall. He fucking did not want to end up on his knees.

With a groan, he fell back on the toilet instead, striping his cock as the last tremors of pleasure worked through him. 

For just a second, a really, really brief second, he let himself sit, pleasure-weak and trembling. But he'd already been gone too long, far too long. With a breath to clear his fuzzy brain and with desperate speed he wiped up his come with toilet paper, cleaned off his dick, flushed the paper, and put himself back together. 

He washed his hands quick but thoroughly, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror the whole time. His cheeks were flushed. His lips were red. He'd just--he--to thoughts of his _strictly-just-friend friend. Again. Holy shit._

He shut his eyes. He didn't have time to think about it right now. He'd think about it later. Yeah, right. He'd think about it later. Everything was cool. Everything was cool.

Gabriel dried his hands on his pants and pushed out of the bathroom, a nervous, euphoric spring in his step despite the confusion that was his mind.

He was still blinking past the pleasure and lost in his thoughts that he didn't immediately notice that their booth was empty when he came up to it. His hand brushed against the grain as he squinted at the empty seats and then spun around with a spike of fear. Sam was pretty drunk, where had he--?

Oh, he was right there at the bar, Gabriel would recognize those shoulders, that waist, those lanky legs ( _Don't think about the legs_ )--not to mention that head of hair ( _Don't think about the hair either_ ) anywhere. Sam was right there, next to some big guy, talking to him and... he.. He was right there with a big guy leaning really close to him, like, really...

Gabriel rubbed his chest, some uncomfortable feeling burning there.

Sam laughed. He-He... Oh, but now he was shaking his head, like, not out of humor, but a definite denial. Oh, okay. A definite no. Gabriel started moving towards them, and then... big guy's meaty palm dropped on Sam's shoulder. That feeling in Gabriel's chest spiked. Fingers. Some _guy's_ fingers, curled around Sam's shoulder around--around _his Sam_. 

With a start, he realized he'd stopped walking again and immediately picked up the pace, weaving between other patrons, chairs, and tables. 

The hand slid a little higher. Squeezed. Ice cold and sharp stabbed Gabriel. His chin tilted, his fingers curled.

"Fuck off," Sam snapped. He brushed at the arm, the hand, the fucking fingers touching him--touching Gabriel's--Gabriel's-- _Gabriel's_. But then it immediately fell back, rubbed, squeezed, and Gabriel was fucking done with this ten by ten meat head.

"Snookums!" Gabriel said, his voice soft and steely all at once. With a casual smack, he knocked the man's offending limb away and _squeezed_ into the space between them, putting his hand-- _his hand_ \--on Sam's bicep and rubbing gently, imagining the heat of his palm burning away the touch of the other. "Did I keep you waiting terribly long? I'm so sorry, Sweetpea." He kept his voice soft but caught Sam's eyes when he asked, in that same cooing voice, but just a little bit lower, a little bit more serious, "Are you okay?"

Swallowing, blinking at Gabriel and then at the man behind him, and then at Gabriel again, Sam nodded. Relief loosened a few of the knots in his stomach.

"Excuse you," Meat Head growled. "We were having a conversation."

Innocently, Gabriel blinked over his shoulder at the lump. "You were? Congratulations, I'm sure that must have been difficult for you." 

"Hey! I was talking to him," block head said, gesturing.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, leveled his gaze, lowered his voice. "Who? Because I'm _sure_ you weren't talking to my boyfriend." Fuck, this guy was a tower, a block. Heat prickled at the back of his neck. 

One thing he knew for sure, he'd do whatever the hell he had to keep Sam safe.

The dude, clearly an idiot, probably a little too drunk to know what was good for him, gestured and said, "Yeah, I was talking to your pretty little boyfriend. Run along little man so I can take care of him for you." 

Anger froze burning cold in Gabriel's chest. He opened his mouth, and then--

"Gentlemen," the woman behind the bar snarled, suddenly appearing out of thin air. Her hair was auburn, her eyes were tired from a long shift, yet still steely strong. She arched an eyebrow. "Is there something I need to interrupt here? Fair warning, I see trouble, I hear trouble, I _smell_ trouble, I call the cops." She looked at them both, questioning.

"I was just taking my boyfriend home. He's a little drunk, you understand." Gabriel looked at Meat Head, who looked at the bartender, who looked at Gabriel.

"Fucking, whatever," he growled. "Little bitch ain't worth it." With a couple more choice curses under his breath, he lumbered off into the back somewhere, Gabriel tense and fighting the weird urge to growl the whole time. When he disappeared around the corner, tension eased from Gabriel's shoulders. He let out a silent sigh.

"Thank you...?" Gabriel said, looking at the woman who'd probably just saved him a night at the hospital.

"Michelle," she said with a smile. "And don't thank me. You looked like you had it handled. I was just here for moral support."

"Well my morals are extremely grateful." 

With a laugh, she tilted her head. "I like the way you think."

Before he had a chance to respond, Sam's arm curled around his neck, and he sort of... leaned on him from up on the stool. "Gabriel," he murmured, low, soft. He couldn't decide if he sounded sleepy or just... Uhm, he didn't know--something else.

"Damn, you guys are adorable together," Michelle breathed, her smile soft.

"Oh, we're not really--" Sam curled a little closer, teased his fingers in Gabriel's hair, brushed his fingertips along his hairline. Gabriel swallowed. "Nevermind."

"You two have a ride?" 

Twisting for his phone, Gabriel hefted it, told her they were going to take an Uber, thanked her again, and wished her a goodnight. With a nod and a smile, Michelle left them to their own devices, tending to the customers at the other end of the bar.

At some point, in the last two minutes Sam had turned in his stool and now his legs ( _his long ass legs_ ) were on either side of Gabriel, his arm still curled around him, his fingers still brush-brushing against his hairline.

It was.

Kind of.

Very.

Distracting.

Beer and sweat and sweet-smelling-fruity-scented soap clung to his body and wrapped around Gabriel in tender layers. 

"Mind easing up a bit, my Snuggly Drunken Sailor?" Gabriel said, his voice sounding sort of more raspy than it should. He cleared his throat.

With a hum, Sam whispered, "Thanks for having my back."

Surprised, Gabriel looked up only to find Sam... _right there_. Hair falling to either side of his face, lips just a little parted. Close enough to see the sunflowers bursting in the blue skies of Sam's eyes. "N-No problem."

Smiling, Sam gave him a little bit of space (though he was still boxing him in, still had his arm around him, still distracting) so Gabriel could jab in their location and destination into Uber, and thanked the saints that a car was availabe under five minutes away. 

"Okay, _snookums_ ," Gabriel said as a joke, trying to lighten the weird tension. "Car's almost here, and then we'll get you home and to b-- _in_ \--in b-- sleep. Get you in..to sleep." Well that was trainwreck from start to finish. 

"Hmm." Sam slid from his stool, right into Gabriel's space--closer, that is, than he was before, and draped his other arm around his shoulders. "I'm pretty comfortable right here."

With more than one mild heart attack, much wrestling, and some dismissive laughter, Gabriel finally got Sam outside and into the car that they'd called for. Of course, he still ended up with a lap full of Sam's soft hair and quietly sleeping best friend... with his arms around his waist... and his nose turned just so, so that his face was... dangerously close to Gabriel's crotch, but, ya know... That was normal. Right? Best friends did this. Gabriel's cock was not twitching in his pants. Becausehe'dalreadyfrickencomeinthebathroomstallbutstill. This was fine. _Normal_.

"D'aww, you boys are so cute," the perky blond driver commented.

"So I keep hearing..." Gabriel gazed down at the face he was... so very familiar with. Watched the streetlights cast a glow on his face every ten seconds. His fingertips strayed to his hair, pushed it from his face. He pinched a lock between his thumb and forefinger and slid to its tip. _So soft_.

The way he'd felt when that stranger put his hand on Sam. That hadn't been just a normal protective friend's reaction. That twist in his gut and sear in his chest? The way his hackles rose with every unwelcome touch? He'd felt like... It had felt like Sammy was his. _His_. He'd wanted to beat the douchebad, and not just for touching Sam when he didn't want to be touched--although that was definitely a factor--but because he'd curled his fingers around _Gabriel's Sam_.

The glass of the window was cool where he pressed his forehead to it. Like he'd done in the stall, jerking off to thoughts of his best friend. Fuck. He was so fucked.

 

________________________________________________

 

The truth was, that night, that night in the bar, that night of the anniversary of his and Gabe's friendship, Sam... had a secret. A big secret. When he was... leaning against the wall of the booth... tilting his chin, swiping his teeth? Telling Gabriel _he wanted him_? 

Yeah, that. He remembered it. Remembered it all. How? Because he wasn't as drunk as he'd led Gabriel to believe. 

Sure, he was intoxicated, definitely. But Sam was pretty fucking great at holding his liquor and he'd had a glass of water after nearly every one of his drinks that night. Was he a little out of it? A little flush? A little brave? Yeah. But he knew what he was doing--no, worse than that, he was fucking doing it _on purpose_.

He'd... in the past month he'd gradually realized how great Gabriel was. Like, no, he'd always known that, but the more he thought about it, the more he... Well, realized he wanted more. His smart mouth and sense of humor, his acceptance and complacency in Sam's slightly freakishly neat ways, his shared admiration for good books, his willingness to try anything Sam cooked, at least once. The list went on... Not to mention that he was... actually kind of fucking gorgeous. Like, _really_. Soft golden hair, sweet smile, that little nose Sam just wanted to nip and kiss and lick. Caramel eyes that looked right through you... They seemed to know the universe, all the bad in it, and they still had this inner glow Sam was _obsessed_ with.

Sam wanted to pin him to the wall. Sam wanted to ravage his sweet mouth. Sam wanted to feel the bewildering strength in his smaller body. Sam wanted... he wanted... _he wanted Gabriel._

And yet... despite knowing that Gabriel at least lusted after his body, he never touched him (more than a friendly pat on the shoulder or punch to the arm). For starters, every single time Sam got laid Gabriel got... weird. Quiet and grumpy and... sad or something. He'd try to hide it under a veneer of lewd jokes and endless conversation but Sam knew him _too well_. And then other times, he'd stare at him with those... those _eyes_ and he'd lick his lips--and then he'd abruptly change the subject or turn on the tv. And Sam had tried-- _tried_ \--to make it clear he wasn't opposed to... whatever Gabriel might want to do to him. He'd take being _fuck buddies_ with him if that's what he wanted. Sam had pressed his back to the counter and pushed out his hips when they were cooking, he'd metioned how much he needed a good fuck, he'd leaned in close and whispered to him, like he had a secret to tell; he'd stared at his lips. He'd done every trick he knew, and Gabriel just, didn't notice or didn't understand or... Sam was wrong and he _didn't_ want him... 

He didn't fucking _know_ which one it was.

So he thought he'd boldly, unmistakably lay it out and tell him. With a little 2 AM craziness and some alcohol, with Gabriel laughing with him all night. It was... It _should've been_ perfect. He'd done his goddamn best and Gabriel had stuttered and run away. 

And then he'd pushed his skinny 5' 8" body between Sam and the beast who wanted to fuck him even though Sam was perfectly capable of fighting off unwanted men himself, and he'd squeezed his arm with his gorgeous cheeks flush and he'd asked him if he was okay and called him his boyfriend and _protected_ him. And good god... Sam was fucked. 

He couldn't--He couldn't stop touching him that night. He wanted to kiss him so damn bad, he wanted to wrap around him like a koala bear and he wanted to hold him and he wanted to _kiss him_. 

The next morning Sam was hungover, of course, but all the water he drank lowered the level to a small headache and slight nausea. He remembered all of the highlights of the night before but when Gabriel came over he said... "I bet you don't remember how embarassingly snuggly you were last night, do you?" And laughed. 

Heat burned in Sam's cheeks. It was easy to exaggerate his hangover and feign memory loss, and, though it took a while to shut the door behind Gabe (because sometimes he was an asshole), he did manage to kick him out and have the morning to mope by himself before work. 

For whatever reason, Gabriel didn't want him. And whatever. Fine. His fucking loss. Sam didn't think he'd been wrong about the looks he was sure Gabriel had given him, but maybe...

A hand dragged through his soapy hair as the shower spray washed him clean of the night before. He didn't know. His brain was... confused. And anyway, the end result was the same, so it didn't really matter anymore.

He told himself this and ignored the little voice thump-thump-thumping in the back of his head that said it actually mattered an awful lot. 

 

It was an honest-to-god accident the first time, Sam was sure of it. 

It was just, like, a couple weeks later. Sam had been trolling the two local gay bars and a few regular bars, looking for a hookup. It'd been over a month since he'd been laid, longer than he usually went, and the itch was scritch-scritching under his skin. He'd stopped looking or accepting booty calls after the last time, the day after the night the power went off. He'd been confused then and hooked up with somebody who could distract him. But Gabriel had--had _seemed_ to spiral into a depression for like a week when Sam came back the next morning and pretended he was fine and that's when Sam slowly started stitching together the things he felt for him. He hadn't gotten laid since then because he'd been wanting... Well, he'd been wanting _Gabriel._

But he hadn't had much luck until then. The guy was crazy shy about his sexuality, but he swore up and down he'd had gay sex before. And so what if he had golden brown hair and soft brown eyes that, in the right lighting, looked almost amber? So when they settled in his car with Sam leaning over and mouthing at his ear, and he asked his place or Sam's, Sam paused, his mouth wet over an earlobe. And then breathed " _My place. Nice and quiet,_ " and told him where to go. 

Maybe he'd be extra loud tonight. Give _Derek_ here a boost of confidence. Maybe he'd show his next door neighbor just what he was missing.

When it happened, Sam was propped up on the back of the couch, legs spread around Derek, butt naked. Three fingers were pumping deep inside of him, and Sam was bracing himself on the couch, his knees gripping Derek. Derek's button up was undone and his pants were on the floor. He was sweating and stuttering and somehow still hard despite his obvious nerves, so Sam just kept praising him, moaning and telling him how _good_ that felt and how _good_ he was doing and _oh god, Derek_. If Sam's eyes kept sliding to the wall dividing his apartment from Gabriel's, Derek didn't have to know that.

And then Derek tugged his fingers free and stepped up to Sam. He put his hands on the back of the couch on the outside of Sam's thighs. He was just about to enter him when... when the _door opened._

Derek jumped about twenty feet and scrambled for his pants.

The door opened and Gabriel walked in wearing shorts and a tank top. Sweaty. Earbuds in. "I'm out of beer so I'm taking y--"

The look on his face when he glanced over was... was comically shocked. Pure, complete. His eyes were huge, his mouth dropped open. He was fucking lucky he didn't fall on his face when he stumbled to a stop. 

"Oh _fuck_ ," he whispered, and tugged an earbud free. 

Sam was, quite naturally, still naked. Damp, panting, legs spread. His loose hole and hard cock were on complete display to Gabriel's eyes, five feet away. 

" _Shit_ ," he whispered. 

Meanwhile, Derek was just _wrestling_ with his pants, tugging on the zipper, stuffing in his still unbuttoned shirt, and seemingly apologizing profusely for something or other as he backed away. He stumbled, almost fell, straightened the lamp that was wobbling, and then rushed out the door. Shy, nervous Derek, scared away by Sam's... _unexpected guest_. And neither Sam or Gabe glanced at him as he made his clumsy way out before slamming the door shut behind him. 

A single earbud dangled from Gabriel's fingers. The faint sounds of Neon Trees' "Animal" floated across the space. Gabriel stared. Impossibly, Sam's arousal didn't drop in the slightest with this... unexpected development. Oh no, actually, it itched higher. His cock throbbed, twitched in midair. _Fuck. Gabe_. Gabe wanted him. He _knew_ he wanted him. The look in his eyes was... _hungry_. Teeth stabbed into Sam's lip to hold back a whimper. His legs spread a little wider, his feet dangling just above the carpet. "You scared off my first lay for a month and a half," he complained. "I needed that." He looked at Gabriel. Gabriel stared.

And then Gabriel took two steps towards him. _Yes! Fucking yes, come on, Baby_. But he stopped, frozen, and something like... he didn't know, something not good passed over his face. Was it... fear? 

"Crap," Gabriel cursed, so quietly Sam almost didn't hear. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Sorry about this." Sam almost wailed when he turned around and rushed out the door, saying _sorry_ and slamming it shut as he ran and hid. 

"Gabriel... no." Sam's eyes shut. _You're killing me now._

He dropped down into the couch and crawled on all fours, dropping down his torso so his head was to one side and his shoulders supported him, his ass in the air. Then he reach back with his left hand and pushed two fingers into himself, fisted his length with his right. It wasn't enough. He needed a cock and a warm body. Golden hair to fist his hands in. A longing keen sounded in his ears.

_Goddamn Gabriel with his hot stares and flushed cheeks. What is his problem? ... Why won't he take me?_

He pumped his cock and humped the couch and fingered himself until he came, sweaty and miserable and groaning into the cushion. 

So, the first time, it was an accident. Sure, Sam believed it. Except last night this thing happened and Gabriel... interrupted him again. And it could have all been a coincidence... except Sam didn't believe in coincidences. 

It was a couple weeks later and an old fling from a few years ago, whom he'd given a booty call. Max had agreed, and they'd even gotten a drink before coming here. He was just as charming and attractive as Sam remembered, so he didn't know why he felt kind of... weird... when they got back, when Max kissed him and started unbuttoning his shirt. It wasn't that he didn't want to get laid--because he did, obviously, so bad--but there was _something_. Something in his chest chanting _wrong, wrong, wrong._

"Hey, you okay?" Max, ever the perceptive one, asked. His fingers had stilled on the hem of Sam's pants because... Sam realized, Sam was gripping his wrists. When had he done that? Max's chocolate brown eyes looked at him with concern.

_What is wrong with me? Max is gorgeous and sweet and wants me. I want this. I want this so bad. And I want to scream my lungs out and drive Gabriel mad while I'm getting it._

"Yeah, I'm okay," Sam smiled at him and ran his palms up his arms. "Do you mind if we... skip the kissing?" The words came out of his mouth before he'd even thought about them, and it was... weird. He'd never minded kissing during sex before. But... now that he thought about it, he'd never kissed Derek on the lips either. Huh.

Max agreed, of course, easy and soft, and Sam didn't have trouble getting louder and louder after they'd stumbled into his bedroom and fallen on his bed. Max was good, fingers and mouth alone just like he remembered, and he had no problem screaming that to his walls. Max had just pushed inside of him when it started. This god awful wail blared in the building, and it was so loud, unpexpected, and such an ugly sound, that he and Max jumped and separated when it went off. With horrifying realization, Sam remembered the sound from ages ago, just a little while after he moved in, when the building's fire alarm was broken and went off three times in the same night. 

"Oh god," he groaned, his heart still pounding with his surprise. 

"Yo, Samson!" Gabriel's voice. In his living room. "I thought to myself, 'Now, what's the most important thing to save during a fire?' and I figured it was my best friend. Where you at?"

Max just barely manage to grab a pillow and cover his own crotch when Gabriel poked his head in. "Oh crap!" he swore, except he didn't turn around. "Damn, I did it again!" he groaned, except he didn't turn around. And Sam was lying flat, knees bent, loose asshole and hard cock on display ( _again_ ) and, even with the wailing in the background he was getting intense deja vu. 

"Dude," Max said. "You mind?"

Gabriel's eyes finally dragged away from Sam's face. Something in them shifted very subtly, almost unnoticeably, but to Sam's eye he seemed... harder, steelier. Angry? "I don't mind at all, Buttercup. But you better put some clothes on. We've gotta take the stairs to one until we know what's going on. He raised his eyebrows, looked at them both, gaze sweeping over Sam, lingering on his face. "I ain't leaving without Sam." He blinked at them both. "I'll just wait out here to give you boys some privacy."

Once they got outside, Max offered to take Sam to his place instead, but he politely declined. "Some other time," Max murmured, squeezing his hand. 

"Yeah... Sorry we were interrupted." 

Max glanced over at Gabriel who was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, far enough away so he couldn't hear them over the mingling crowd, but watching them still. He smiled and waved when they looked at him, and Max returned his gaze to Sam. There was a small smile on his lips when he said, "Don't worry about it."

They parted ways and Sam took the space on the wall next to Gabriel, unconsciously mirroring his position, their shoulders just brushing. "That must have been bad timing for you, huh." It wasn't really a question, amber eyes, dark in the low light, tilted back and looked up at him.

With a sigh, Sam scritched his nails through his hair. "Yeah. I've been having... _bad luck_ in that department for a while now."

Gabriel's eyes weren't on him anymore. They were on the ground. On his shoes where his ankles crossed in front of him. "Well that sucks. You deserve better than that." And then again, lower, almost like he was talking to himself, "You deserve better." Licking his lips, Gabriel asked him slowly, "... You didn't want to go somewhere else with your... date?"

"He wasn't a date," Sam replied. "Just a booty call."

"Oh," Gabriel nodded. "Well that then."

Sam sucked in a breath through his nose and looked down at Gabriel. "Nah. Figured I'd stay with my best friend while we wait to see what's going on."

"Oh," Gabriel repeated, except this time it has a little upswing to it, and he was kind of almost smiling. 

Sam stared at the top of his head, noticed a flicker of those eyes as he leaned back again and glanced at him. Those eyes said so much, so much Sam didn't understand. He opened his mouth to say... something, _something_ but he wasn't sure what, but before he got the chance, the firemen who'd been searching the building came back out and a bit of a hush fell over the residents as one of them stood on the little steps like a platform. "As far as we can figure, the fire alarm was pulled in error or as a prank. There is no fire; the building is safe."

A hubbub of cheers and groans and angry voices returned, and Gabriel glanced over at him, quick, and away again. "Wow, what a douchebag..." He trailed off, then knocked their shoulders together, looking up at him. "Wanna get a milkshake?"

Sam was tired and frustrated in more ways then one, but when Gabriel looked up at him with that sparkle in his eye, he felt a crooked smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat in spite of himself. "Sure."

________________________________________________

 

And that's... exactly where we're at, in this weird, confusing dance. Pun not intended. With a sigh, Sam glances across club where Gabriel is sitting with Dean and Cas. Charlie and Dorothy must be off dancing somewhere. They're talking to him, or trying to, laughing and nudging each other, and dipping in for body shots or to kiss each other every few minutes. Gabriel's head jerks towards them when they prompt, he chuckles, nods, but his smile is tight, and then his eyes are back on the dance floor, searching, searching, ah, and now they've found him. 

They manage to stare at one another for a solid five seconds before another body crosses their path, and then Aiden's hand is on Sam's arm and Sam's gaze dutifully focuses back on him. 

Dean had thought of this. Coming here. With Cas and with Charlie and Dorothy. " _It's basically a triple date,_ " he'd said. " _The music, the heat, the dancing. This will work, Sammy, come on. Give it a chance._ "

He'd given it a chance. And Gabriel had been acting like a priest in a gay club. Usually first on the dance floor, he hadn't even ventured out. And Sam was the designated driver tonight, yet Gabriel had had nothing but a single beer and virgin lemonade. Not to mention how Dean and Charlie had helpfully squished them into the back of the hoop booth, right next to each other, and yet Gabriel kept inching away, keeping even their knees from knocking together. 

When dancing as suggestively as he could got nothing but soulful stares from the guy he really wanted, _Aiden_ showed up. With a heated look he'd caught Sam's eye and with an aquiescent tilt of Sam's head he was suddenly in his space, dancing with the motion of Sam's body. While he was somewhat attractive, the dominance he continued to display in little but frequent motions, like how he'd just grabbed his arm and tugged him back as the only acceptable point of focus, would normally have been a little too severe for Sam's tastes. He would have turned him away by now... Except, he'd been trying to use him. Does he feel guilty? Yeah, a little bit. But he was verging on desperate and Aiden was just here, available and sexy with his strong build and the swirling tattoos all down one arm. And Sam thought... He just thought maybe Gabriel would get up and come over here and take Aiden's place. If he was jealous enough. 

But he's still sitting in that goddamn booth, watching but never ever touching. And Sam is getting tired of it. And Aiden is here. Available. Sexy. And most important? Willing to touch him. 

His hand still grips Sam's bicep, and, in fact, his other is drawing up his shoulder, curling around his neck. He puts both hands at the base of Sam's throat and grips him. Doesn't squeeze or anything, just very loosely, very gently, holds Sam's throat in his hands. For a brief second, Sam catches sight of Gabriel through the crowd, and he swears he can see his eyes flash from here.

Jealous? Too bad. 

Sam palms up Aiden's chest, and the guy lets his hands glide back down to Sam's hips. Sam's arms loop around Aiden's neck and he leans over to shout in his ear. " _Wanna get out of here?_ "

Aiden's thick lips curl when Sam looks back at him. He nods and then grips Sam's wrist tight between his fingers and pulls him through the weaving bodies. To Sam's surprise, they don't head to the front where the cars are parked, but in the opposite direction altogether. He has no idea what Aiden has in mind, but at this point, he's willing for almost anything. 

They exit through a back door Sam didn't even know existed and stumble out into the suddenly muted quiet of a dark, litter-strewn, back alley. Aside from a cat who looks up at them from the crushed box she's curled up on, it's completely vacant of life. 

"I'm gonna do you good and hard," Aiden murmurs, husky, in his ear. "Right up against the wall."

Sam's eyebrows rise high, disgusted to his gut. "You want to... _here_?" It's far from the most... _sanitary_. Sam's fingers are already itching to grab some gloves, fill the dumpster along the wall with this trash, and spray everything down with bleach. While he wouldn't call his... _tendencies_ , neurotic, it does bother him when there's stuff laying around or sticky rings on his coffee table. This? This is a bit much. "Yeah, I don't know, man."

"Come on, pretty, it'll be fun. I'll be so good for you." Wet breath tickles his ear as a hand strokes, surprisingly softly, up his back. "If we get started and you don't like it, I'll stop, I swear."

Breathing out, Sam closes his eyes. Soulful amber eyes fill his head to distraction and Sam's frown turns angry. He wants this. _I want this. I may not love the venue, but do I wanna be fucked? Yeah. And Aiden's ready to do it._

"Okay," Sam breathes. "Over there," he points to the other side of the dumpster (opposite side of Alert Cat) where it seems a little less gross. 

Aiden _breathes_ excitedly. "Whatever you say, pretty one." He's a little overly enthusiastic as he leads Sam to the spot. "Face the wall," he rumbles. Fighting back the urge to sigh, Sam steps forward and eyes the brick. It's old and dark and still smells damp from the midnight rain they had last night. Taking a breath of warm alley air and bracing himself, he puts his hands on it.

Aiden comes up behind Sam. He can feel his presence at his back before a palm curls over his neck. There's building pressure there. He's going to push Sam's face into the wall, he can feel it. A twinge of disgust twists in his insides.

"Hey, douchebag!" The thunk of the metal door used to get out here accompanies this cry, practically accentuates it. A surge of hot anger, mix with a little bit of hope Sam chooses to ignore, burns in his chest, but he ignores it as they both turn around to see the face of the man who's, yet again, interrupted him. 

The lighting is dim, but the working streetpost down the ways splashes across one half of Gabriel's face, leaving the other in shadow and both halves full of anger, like hell's fire and heaven's wrath _both_ directed at Aiden.

"Gabriel," Sam snaps. "What are you doing?" But Gabriel just glances at him before his sharp gaze is on Aiden again.

"Get your filthy paws off of him." With a start, Sam realizes Aiden's fingers are still curled gently around the back of his neck. They squeeze in defiance with Gabriel's command.

"Who the fuck are you?" Aiden barks.

"Doesn't matter," he says with a shake of his head. He's crossed the space to them now, and while he's a couple inches shorter than Aiden, his presence is huge. "You're disrespecting Sam, and I won't stand here and watch it."

With a smirk, with a squeeze of his fingers, Aiden says, "Then go back inside."

The crack takes even Sam by surprise when Gabriel's right hook connects with Aiden's face. His grip on Sam slips away as he stumbles back. 

Crap. What the fuck is Gabriel doing? Sure, he's always been unexpectedly strong, but that doesn't mean he won't get hurt brawling some dude out in the street. 

"Why you little fucking--"

"Aiden," Sam barks, stepping in front of him, _between_ them. "Stop." His hand slides up Aiden's chest, but he doesn't need to use force to stop him. While Aiden glares at Gabriel, he stops at Sam's command, just like he said he would. A very small amount of regret drifts to the bottom of Sam's stomach. While Aiden is definitely a dom with some kinks Sam isn't interested in, he seems like a good one. "I'm sorry about--" he glances back at Gabriel before looking at Aiden again. "I'm sorry. But please just go." Finally tearing his gaze from Gabriel, Aiden looks at him. He's angry and calculating. "Please," Sam repeats.

With a sigh, Aiden drops his chin in agreement. "Fine." He glances at Gabriel and then back at Sam. "I assume you'll be fine?"

The regret grows. "Yeah. Thanks." With a nod and a glare past Sam, Aiden leaves them, heading back inside the club and leaving Sam and Gabriel by themselves. 

For a second, there's just silence, Sam still facing away from Gabriel. He drops his head, too much of... _everything_ wrestling in his body. His fingers curl and relax and curl again.

"Sam, are you o--"

"Gabriel, what the fuck was that?" Sam finally whips around when Gabriel tries to speak. He looks... caught off guard. 

After a tense second, he comes up with,"That-That guy was.... in this _alley_?" He gestures with incredulity. 

"Yeah, he was, and I've been trying to get laid and _Aiden was willing_. I don't really care if that bothers you, because this was _my choice_." He stabs his own chest with the words for emphasis. 

"Sam," Gabriel's face twists. "I know you. I know you don't want to have sex in some trashy alley behind a club."

Exhaustion with Gabriel settles over Sam like a cloak. "You know me, huh?" His hand drags down his face. Fuck it. "We both know that isn't what this is about. Just admit it."

Gabriel looks genuinely confused with Sam's accusation, not understanding what direction Sam is taking this. "What are you talking ab--"

"I'm talking about the way you look at me." Sam's throws a hand down frustration. 

Gabriel just goes still, his face suddenly slack and clear. "Sam..."

"I'm talking about the way you lick your lips when you look at mine." It's too dim in the alley to be really certain, but he thinks Gabriel has gone pale. 

"Sam."

"I'm talking about how, more and more lately, you avoid touching me like I've got the plague, but when you let yourself, your hand lingers and you-you _look_ at me with something--"

"Sam!" Gabriel's eyes have shut, his fists curled at his sides. His chest rises and falls with his hoarse breaths. 

"You want me," Sam says, finally. " _You want me_. Just admit it!"

"Fine!" Gabriel's eyes are open again. He's staring at Sam like he's the end of his world, and he's--he's _terrified_. "Yes, I want you. You're my best friend, my family, some of the only family that has _ever_ cared about me, and I'm fucking terrified of losing you, so I don't touch. I don't touch because I want you so bad--I-I want you so bad it drives me crazy." He throws his hands down and looks at Sam with glistening eyes and resignation. "Yes, Sam, I want you. I want you more than the goddamn air I breathe, okay. Does that make you happy?"

Sam knows that's a rhetoric question, but fuck, yes, _jesus_ , yes, these words give him so much hope he's nearly blind with it. His breath is trapped in his lungs, he wants so insanely hard to believe. But he's been disappointed so many times, and he needs... he _needs_. "You want me?" he asks, and surprisingly, his voice comes out steady. Low, tinged with.. _something_ , but steady. "Then _show_ me."

Gabriel flinches at that and straightens, his mouth open with his great lungfuls of breath. For a desperately long second he just... _stares_. The air, the wind, the oceans, the earth, time itself _freezes_. They're on the edge of a precipice and if Gabriel steps down now, turns around, walks away from him now... _Please, Gabriel, please._

Gabriel blinks first. His lips seal, and then he's striding towards him. Shock surprises Sam so much he backs right up against the wall when Gabriel closes in on him. And then he's there, looking up at him. A hand lifts, knuckles brush across his cheek, and then Gabriel buries his hand in Sam's hair and tugs him down. 

 

________________________________________________

 

Gabriel doesn't know what he's doing spilling confession after confession in this damn alleyway, but he can't seem to get his mouth to stop. "Yes, Sam, I want you. I want you more than the goddamn air I breathe, okay. Does that make you happy?" The words finally end, and he's standing there with his head spinning thinking, _this is it. This is the moment when Sam walks away from me, packs up his apartment, moves away. I'll never see him again because I let my stupid heart fall for him and now I've fucked it up._

But Sam doesn't yell at him anymore. He doesn't walk away. He doesn't even look angry. "You want me?" he says, quiet, almost _gentle_ , yet laced with command. His chin tilts back, his eyes flash. "Then _show_ me." The words are little more than a rasp, but to Gabriel they're like a clap of thunder. He has to steady himself before he stumbles back in his shock. And he thinks, ... _Does he mean it? And he thinks, If I cross that line will-will I have a chance?_ And Sam's looking at him, and he's not backing down. He's standing there, gorgeous and waiting for _Gabriel_. And he thinks, _He wants me to show him? Then I'll show him._

He crosses the space between them in just a handful of strides, until Sam is up against the wall, looking at Gabriel likes he's even tall enough to box him in. While it is dark in this alley, it's filled with enough streelight and moonlight that he can see the shape of Sam's face, the line of his eyebrows, his nose, his jaw. _Sam,_ he thinks, _oh, Sam, you have no idea how much I want you._

His knuckles brush across his cheek without him even realizing he's doing it before he slides his fingers in that hair (the fricken hair) and pulls Sam down. Sam comes easy and with barely a breath and Gabriel pushes up until their lips connect. And... he's... _he's kissing Sam,_ his Sam. A swarm of butterflies flare in his stomach so sudden and powerful they make him lightheaded, but somehow, Sam's lips ground him. He buries his hands in Sam's hair just to hold on, then he-he fucking kisses Sam with all the pent up longing and _need_ that is filling every crevice of his body and soul. He kisses him hard and dirty and fast, licking into Sam's mouth and _moaning_ in response to the whimper he gets.

"Sam," he pants from one breath to the next, just long enough to turn his head and join their mouths together again. Their noses brush, and Sam's hands come up his back and fist in his shirt, and Gabriel thinks _Yes, yes, fuck_. A hand (the same throbbing hand that he'd used to punch Sam's anonymous dude) slides from Sam's hair to brush over the back of Sam's neck, and a surge of possessiveness rushes through him, putting _his_ hand where someone else touched Sam. He doesn't grip, he doesn't squeeze, just brushes under his hair and over his neck. _No one else_. Gabriel thinks. _Mine, this time. Mine._

The hands on his back pull at him, tug him closer, and then Sam-Sam rocks against him but he misses so he does it _again_ , and this time he finds Gabriel's groin and he's, Sam is.... _Sam is hard in his pants, fuck_. Heat rushes through Gabriel's body. The warm, curling, _aching_ feeling in his gut that he had been carefully ignoring is now shooting through his dick and climbing up his back, and, like, Gabriel can't ignore it anymore. Nuh-uh. Nope. Impossible. 

A hand drops from Sam's hair, squeezes his shoulder, and then fists under his arm, around his back, all while still kissing him, still kissing him, he can't seem to stop kissing him, christ. Sam's mouth is hot and perfect and Gabriel wants him. _God, I want you. Do you see that now? Do you? Sam, Sam, my Sam._ When Gabriel thrusts and misses and searches and thrusts again against Sam's leg, Sam moans low and deep and thrusts back against whatever he can find. They keep doing that until they're basically humping each other, fully clothed, in a fucking alleyway, and no, fuck no, Gabriel's losing his mind bit by bit, but if Sam--if Sam really will let him--If he--Fuck, if this is happening, he's not going to stay in this disgusting place a second longer. 

With a great effort of will, Gabriel finally pulls back from Sam's perfect fucking mouth enough to gasp in the air and breathlessly ask, "Do you want this?" Steamy breath blows warm across his face before Sam's lips are on him, kissing up his cheek. A shudder winds through Gabriel's body, his chin turning up, presenting his face for the attention like a happy puppy. 

" _Yes_ ," Sam breathes. "Yes, goddamn, Gabriel. Been wanting you so long." He finds his nose and licks across it then kisses up it to his forehead.

"You--Really? You want me?" Gabriel can't breathe. What is happening? 

"Duh, you idiot. I even told you I did in that--" Sam kisses over his forehead. "--in the bar. And you did nothing."

Gabriel's mind blanks for a second. Surely he doesn't mean--? "You remember that!?"

Sam chuckles against his hairline, drops his forehead to Gabriel's shoulder, rubs his cock against him, and doesn't say a word.

Fuck. He remembers. 

"I jacked off in the bathroom because of you." Because apparently tonight is Confession Night.

Sam freezes, and then gasps softly. "You're fucking kidding me." 

"You were so hot all damn night in your tight jeans, popping your hips in karaoke. I was running on a low simmer the whole time, and then you started saying things and kept taunting me with that neck--"

"Mm, this neck?" Sam teases, tilting back his head and presenting it to him like a steak to a starving man. What was Gabriel supposed to do? His lips latch on without hesitation, whatever the fuck else he'd been saying forgotten. He nibbles right up in one quick sweep, and then starts working back down, listening to Sam's moans as he humps Gabriel harder and faster. "Why didn't you d-do something? I was right there, ready, wanting you." Gabriel sinks his teeth into the base of that throat and shuts his eyes. Hot, he's so burning hot. "Gabe," Sam gasps.

Gabriel pulls back, flicks his tongue over the faint teeth marks, taking a moment to gather his courage. Does he tell him? Should he? Will it reveal too much? He takes in a breath. _Confession Night, remember?_

"I was terrified of losing you. Fuck, I am terrified of losing you." When he looks up he finds Sam's eyes already on him, filling with confusion and... sadness? "Sam, you know I-I don't have any family worth mentioning. Outside of Bal I don't even have any friends, and you... You came into my life like the part of my puzzle I didn't even know I was missing. And I thought if I..." He looks down, shakes his head. "I thought I might lose you if I-- ...And I couldn't..." Goddamn it, why couldn't he finish a sentence?

"Gabriel," Sam says, pressing their foreheads together. And then like it wasn't enough the first time, " _Gabriel_ ," he breathes. "You aren't losing me. You won't lose me. I don't--I don't know what this is, but no matter what happens I am your best friend first. I will fucking be in your life no matter what happens. And you had better fucking be in mine."

Gabriel laughs despite himself. "I'm like a venereal disease. I always come back." Oh my god, he can _feel_ Sam roll his eyes, and, yup, he's laughing again.

"Remind me again why I like you?" 

"Hmm," Gabriel pushes up into him and kisses him. He bites at his lips, dirty, and then licks up the delicious taste of his mouth. Heat thumps, steady and ever higher in his stomach. 

"Fuck. You-You make a convincing argument," he gasps. 

"Good, then let's fucking get out of here, huh? Let's take you home--"

"And get me into bed?" Sam teases, reminding Gabriel just how much of _that night_ he remembers. 

"Before I push you into the backseat and hump you into oblivion," Gabriel retorts, rather than take the bait. 

Eyes widen and Gabriel really wishes he could see them better in this darkness, but he _can_ certainly feel the way a hand grips his arm. "Oh god," he breathes. "Yeah, yeah, let's... Car." He looks around, as if he completely forgot where they were and nods at the side of the building. "Around front."

"Ah-huh," Gabriel murmurs distractedly, smiling.

"C-Come on," Sam somehow finds his hand and pulls right out of his embrace, tugging Gabriel along after him. They make it as far as the corner of the building and then all Gabriel knows is Sam's mouth on his, kissing him like it's the first time all over again. His hands on his face, his lips, his tongue--Gabriel is lost, kissing him back just as damn hard. 

They finally make it to Sam's pearly white kia optima with its custom leather seats (seats Gabriel may or may not have dreamed of making Sam come all over) with Sam behind the wheel, Gabriel crawling out of his skin in the passenger seat. He's already reaching over to Sam when the click of Sam's seatbelt fills the air. Sam glances at him. "Seatbelt."

"Sam," Gabriel huffs.

"Gabe," Sam replies.

"Ohmygod, _fine_ , Mr. Safety Cop, just drive will you?"

Smiling, Sam turns on the car and backs out of the spot while Gabriel tugs his seatbelt into place, snapping it in. The second they're on the road, Gabriel tugs the chest part around him so he's just strapped in at his waist and leans over the gears to mouth at that neck. He hasn't left any marks on this side, after all. He drops his hand to Sam's thigh. He's hot, burning even through his pants. Sam's head tilts slightly as Gabriel places wet kisses up his throat. "God, you're so hot, Sam, practically burning," he whispers these words in Sam's ear, drawing his hand up higher, feeling the first of the tight creases at the crotch of Sam's pants.

Sam's mouth opens on a pant. "You're going to get me into a car accident."

"I trust you," Gabriel quips, an instant reply, and darts out his tongue to lick at Sam's lobe.

"If we die before you fuck me I'm going to kill you."

A laugh rumbles up Gabriel's chest from deep in his stomach, and he drops back. "Fine, give me your hand to hold, drive fast, and maybe I can stay on this side of the car."

Gabriel ends up kissing every inch of that hand (nipping at his wrist when he gleefully finds that's a sweet spot for Sam), the only thing he's allowed to do, before they finally reach home. They practically chase each other up the stairs and, unsurprisingly, end up pressed against the wall before the doors of their apartments. 

"Yours or mine?" Sam pants with a contagious grin.

Gabriel almost replies _Mine,_ on instinct, but then the image of Sam, propped up on the back of his couch with a stranger between his legs, fills his mind. The image of Sam sprawled out, knees bent and open on his bed with another guy sitting beside him, chases after it, and that thing in Gabriel's chest, that hot, twisty, uncomfortable _thing_ burns under his sternum. "Yours," he rasps, nearly growls, the tone weird enough that Sam stops and looks at him. 

Gabriel doesn't know what his face betrays, but Sam slow smiles like he knows just what he's thinking and nods his head. "Mine."

It's not the way Sam meant it at all, but there's a rush of feeling in Gabriel's chest and a chant of _Yes, yes, yours, yours_ in his head and before he can think about it he's compelled to say it again. "Yours." Like Sam gets it, he moans, his head thunking back on the wall, fingers tight on Gabriel's shoulders. "Open the door, unlock the door, Gabe, before we cause a scene in the fucking hallway."

They finally, finally stumble through the doors, Sam wrapped around Gabriel from behind like a monkey, even freaking kissing his hair, and suddenly the idea of Sam with a curly tail and flat little nose pops into Gabriel's head, and he's laughing to himself like a lunatic. But instead of asking what he's been smoking, Sam's just chuckling into his hair not even knowing what he's thinking, arms tight and secure around his chest. "What?" he breathes.

"You'd make an adorable monkey." 

Sam chokes on his laughter and kisses the top of Gabriel's head. "I love your brain." Feeling rushes in Gabriel's chest, and he twists in Sam's arms and tugs him down to kiss him, for once in his life cursing his height as he pushes up on his toes. 

He turns Sam around, not even knowing where he's going until he pushes him back step by step and they run right into the back of the couch. The vision flashes in his head: Sam naked, cock hard, resting on his stomach, somebody _else_ between his legs. A sound almost like a growl (Fuck, when did he get so growly?) as his hands drop to Sam's ass, slide just under, where the back of his legs meets the rise of his cheeks. Sam seems to know what he's about to do because he rises up just as Gabriel lifts him, putting him up on the back of that couch, his legs ( _Oh sweet jesus, the legs_ ) falling open to let Gabriel in between them.

He puts his hand on Sam's thighs, another lifting a knee as one leg loops around him, and turns his head up as Sam's fingers in his hair pull him into a kiss. Sam. Oh Sam. 

On the couch. _Mine this time. Mine._ "Mine," he breathes, oh fuck, out loud for the first time. He pauses, their faces an inch apart, lips wet. Sam's hair falls over his forehead as he nods, eyes dancing over Gabriel's face. 

"Yours."

With just one word he takes his breath away. And then he tugs him down and kisses him again. When Gabriel manages to pull back, he looks into Sam's eyes before he drops to the floor and unties Sam's shoes, one at a time, stuffing his socks in each one and setting them to the side before rising back up. Sam's hands are on him instantly, not directing him in the slightest, just touching him, stroking his hair, grabbing a shoulder as Gabriel's hands drift to his waist. The belt under his thumbs is smooth and soft. He looks at Sam, just to be sure, just one more time. Sam's lips quirk sideways; he nods.

The belt is simple, soft tan leather with a brass buckle but to Gabriel it looks like the prettiest bow, tied around the wrapping, hiding the gift of that bulge underneath. His lips taste like Sam when he swipes his tongue over them as he tugs open that belt, pops the button underneath, and drags the zipper down right over Sam's hardness. Fighting for breath, he leans down to mouth at Sam's stomach, but before he can reach inside, Sam's sliding from the couch. His pants are undone but still desperately clinging to Sam's hips ( _Man, I would too_ ) revealing white boxer briefs hugging that deliciously lewd bulge inside.

"You first," Sam says, tugging Gabriel's silky white shirt from his pants. "You've had the advantage of seeing me naked--twice. I want to see some skin." Gabriel is surprised by the level of restraint Sam thinks he has. While Sam finds the buttons at the top of Gabriel's shirt, Gabriel scrabbles for the ones at the bottom of Sam's.

"If you think seeing you naked, briefly, from a distance, twice is anywhere close to enough you are vastly mistaken."

Sam licks his lips, glancing up from his chest to his eyes before looking back down. "Oh yeah? Think we might have to do this a few times?"

A thrill shoots through his chest. "Oh, definitely. More than a few, actually. We'll probably have to do this lots and lots and lots of times. I don't know how long it will take." Their hands meet in the middle in their opposite progressions, and with a little smile at each other, they swap positions so Gabriel is on top and Sam's on the bottom ( _And oh shit. Stop thinking about that. I have a dirty mind_.)

"That's okay," Sam murmurs. "We'll just keep it _doing_ it until you get there." Gabriel grins at the double entendre (That's all. Just the double entendre. He's not grinning for any other reason. Like, his heart isn't thumping wildly, his stomach isn't about to burst with happy rainbows and choral music or anything. That would be weird.)

"Gotta be honest with you," Gabriel says, finally undoing the last button and pulling the flaps of Sam's shirt back. He _drinks_ in the sight of Sam's round shoulders, beading nipples, toned stomach, and trim waist, and presses his lips together. "That day may never come."

"Bedroom," Sam breathes, seconds before he crashes their mouths together. Somehow he wrangles Gabriel's shirt from his arms while kissing him (Gabriel doesn't really notice this, he's too distracted. Gabriel likes kissing Sam. Gabriel likes it a lot.) so when he finds himself against a wall, it's his bare back that presses to the cool tan _Cream 'N Coffee_ paint job. "God, Gabriel. Need you." Sam's body is almost _laying_ on Gabriel against the wall. His hips press down on Gabriel's stomach, just below his belly button, his hot cock pressing to his body, under his boxers, with his pants barely hanging on, and he _grinds_. Humps against Gabriel like he's a sex toy, and _oh jesus fuck_. Hot breath paints across his face and knocks around a few strands of hair as Gabriel uses the wall to support himself and Sam _uses Gabriel_. "Fuck, I'm so hard. Can you feel me? Can you, Gabriel? G-God--" Sam's humping is slowly dislodging his pants, dragging them centimeter by centimeter down his ass and once they reach--oh, there they go. With a _whump,_ they fall right down his legs to clump around his ankles, and Sam just glances down between them, over his bulging hard cock, steps out of them with one foot at a time, and then kicks them aside. 

Suddenly, Sam is in nothing but an open, sinfully black, shirt and clean, _clean_ , white, _white_ , boxers. Boxers that hug him in all the right places, outline his perfect, gorgeous straining cock in so much detail, Gabriel swears he can follow the line of the vein from base to head. Just to confirm, though, he gets a closer look. On his knees. 

"Oh, god, Gabriel," Sam pants. He spares a glance up at him, only to find the eyes on him dark, dark, dark, the pupils blown so wide, and Gabriel's moaning, staring up at those eyes but falling forward to nuzzle against Sam's clothed cock. A hand lands on his head, not directing, just touching, and heck, Gabriel moans at that too. The musky scent of Sam and his arousal, mixed with the soft fruity smell of his soap fills Gabriel's nose and it's so good, so good, he breathes in lungfuls. And, oh yes, you can absolutely follow that thick vein. He can definitely see that now. He was wrong about one thing, though. While Sam's boxers are white and clean, there is one small blemish on them he completely missed earlier. There's a spot on them... of precome, growing incrementally while Gabriel watches.

The taste of _Sam_ on cotton explodes on his tongue before he even knows he's opened his lips to that spot and is mouthing at Sam's head. " _Ungh_ Gabe!" The fingers in his hair tighten and Gabriel hums in response, flicking his eyes up before focusing back on those boxers and the pretty pretty cock underneath. Sam tastes salty and sort of earthy with faint bitter undertones and clean soap and Gabriel whines softly, liking it too much. He moves up higher, his mouth wet and sucking and licking and working up Sam's cock, saliva spilling from his lips and leaving wet patches all over Sam's underwear. Somehow this fills Gabriel's cock even more, and he thinks _This is mine. My cock_ , and god, jesus fuck, he just wants Sam, he fucking wants Sam with his entire being. "Mine," he gasps, staring at the ridge of Sam's heat and the way his saliva has made the fabric _almost transparent._

Sam makes some sound, some jumble of his name mixed with groans and growls, and then _rocks_ his hips right into Gabriel's face, fingers twisting in his hair. Fingers holding him in place. He's gentle but reckless and he just fucks Gabriel's face, humps his face with his clothed wet cock. And this is just so unexpectedly hot, so impossibly hot, that Gabriel's cock is suddenly fucking aching in his pants, and he _palms_ himself helplessly, mouth open to catch or lick Sam's bulge anytime it gets close enough. Sam's fingers curl tight in his hair, holding his head just so, tilted slightly up just so, so Sam can stare at his face as he fucks him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Gabe." Sam drops his head back, eyes closed, still moving, pumping, like he can't stop himself. His cock hits Gabriel's lips and cheek, rubs over the bristles on his chin, the soft cotton surrounding him protecting him from burn and just, apparently, making him feel really really good since he whines and does it again. "Fuck, if you don't get on the bed, I'm gonna fucking come on your face," Sam gasps, black eyes flashing down at him. 

_Jesus fuck, yes. Come on me, Sam._ Gabriel whimpers, but nods, knowing he's going to get Sam to do that some other time, and climbs up Sam's body like a tree. 

Sam meets him for a kiss the second he's on his feet as if he needs it just as bad, grabbing him to make sure he doesn't stumble as blood floods his tingly legs. With their mouths still joined he walks Gabriel right through the doorway, hands on his back and his jaw, kissing him like he can't get enough. The backs of Gabriel's legs knock into the bed. And then Sam smiles against his lips and pushes him back. The mattress bounces under him while Sam goes to work on Gabriel's belt. Before he's even recovered Sam's tugging his pants and underwear down, shucking them like so much unwanted wrapping paper. "Middle of the bed," he gasps, ripping his own shirt off his shoulders. Gabriel, now naked, does just what he's told, sitting cross-legged while Sam, in spit-slicked white boxer briefs and nothing else, grabs some lube from his drawer before shimmying out of his last layer. 

"God, you're something else." His swollen cocks bobs in the air and Gabriel catches just a flash of a perfect globe as Sam turns to him with a crooked grin. Like some porn fantasy he returns to the foot of the bed before he crawls on hands and knees to Gabriel, stopping with his palms braced on the bed to either side of his hips. The urge to touch him is almost irresistable so Gabriel palms his face, feeling the fine bristles on his jaw.

"You're going to sit there while I open myself up for you," Sam murmurs. "Put some lube on my fingers." 

"Oooh," Gabriel breathes. "S-Such a tease." 

Sam just smirks at him. "You didn't help me out when Derek left me hot and wanting, not to even mention Max--"

Gabriel doesn't even know that he's the one breathing like that until Sam stops talking, eyebrows quirked, searching his eyes. His face relaxes with his smile. "Don't worry, baby, I'm all yours now. You just don't get to help with this part." He tilts his head cutely, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. "Except with the lube."

Swiping that hair off his face, Gabriel shrugs a shoulder, nods his head. "Sounds fair." 

A peak of white teeth, and then Sam spreads his hand for Gabriel to fill. _Lube duties. Heh heh. Ohmygod my mind._ Squeezing out a liberal amount, he watches in wonder as Sam bends down a little, eyes still on Gabriel's and reaches back behind himself. He can tell the first finger goes in when Sam hums, his perfect pink mouth opening in a silent pant. His body jostles slightly as he fingers himself, and it's weird... strangely, like, intimate. Completely fucking erotic too, obviously, but also... They're right there together, so close, face to face, watching each other. They just... they just stare, and Gabriel wants to kiss him, but at the same time he just wants to see the slight twitch of the muscle under Sam's eye, the flick of his gaze over Gabriel's face, and the way his face shifts and his tongue touches the back of his teeth when he adds a second finger. Gabriel's heart is pounding. I mean, it's _been_ pounding but it's... different. There's this... soft look Sam has sometimes that... come to think of it, he's only ever seen directed at him. He's wearing it now and it's making the dang butterflies from earlier return in full force.

Sam returns for more lube and Gabriel provides it for him, dropping the bottle on the bed and returning to watching Sam as he reaches back. He moans this time with, Gabriel can only assume, three fingers. He pants and his eyes are a little bit squinted like he's burning, just a little bit with the stretch, so Gabriel grabs his chin and turns his mouth and kisses him. Least he can do is give him a distraction. He's good at distractions. He kisses him thoroughly, not hard but deep, while he strokes softly through his hair. Sam makes an appreciative sound in his throat, kissing him back. A few seconds later, Gabriel can feel him shift just a little against him as he starts stretching himself again. Gabriel kisses him softly a few more times before giving him space to breathe, watching his mouth open and his tongue flick the roof of it as he moves. After a breath, he drops his face to Gabriel's neck, hiding there and panting. Gabriel smooths over his shoulders and down his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax, bunch and ease. 

"Almost re-ready for you, Gabriel." Gabriel kisses a little spot on his jaw, the only place he can reach. "Been wanting you... _huh_ , so long."

"Want you," Gabriel whispers back. "Could hardly resist you. Almost kissed you ten times a day." Sam curls more into his neck, his arm straining behind him. "Every time we sat on that couch I wanted to climb on top of you."

"G-Gabe."

"Tried to resist jacking off to you, but you were always the sexiest thing I've ever seen. How could I resist?"

"Oh god," Sam pants."You--What did you th-think about?"

 _Everything. All of you_. Where to start? "Your hair, I wanted to fist my hands in it. Your sweet mouth, oh jesus, your mouth. You're crazy legs. God, I _dreamed_ of them wrapped around me."

"Ooh, Gabriel, m-my legs wrapped around you?"

"Yes, yes."

"Fuck, th-then that's exactly what I'm gonna do." With a soft panting breath Sam tugs his fingers free and pushes up, looking at him. "I'm ready."

Heat and excitement jumble in Gabriel's stomach and he kisses Sam quick and hard before Sam falls back on his haunches. He's going to--in Sam's sweet body-- He grabs the lube and quickly slicks himself up. "How do you want me to--?"

"Just stay right there, hold me up when I--when I--" he drops his feet to the bed at Gabriel's hips, so his the backs of his knees are resting on the top of Gabriel's, and then he pushes himself up and forward onto his knees at Gabriel's hips so he's straddling him really, really, really, _really fucking_ close. Like, Sam's gorgeous cock is trapped between their bodies while Gabriel's just brushes Sam's ass. Soft chestnut hair falls around Sam's eyes as he looks down at him with a sinful, sinful, smile. _Damn, that should be illegal_. "See what I have in mind?"

"Y-Yes, my sexy demon, I think I've got it." 

Sam's smile turns into a grin. "Better get your hands on my ass then."

"You got it!" Gabriel huffs, gripping the underside of Sam's perfect cheeks in his hands to support him while he stretches out one leg behind Gabriel and then the other so the weight of his torso is mostly supported by Gabriel's locked wrists.

"Jesus, you're holding me up like it's nothing." Sam's knees squeeze Gabriel's sides. "That is so hot. Okay, okay, lower me."

Holding Sam's cheeks open a little bit, the two of them work together to slowly lower Sam onto Gabriel's cock. The head pushes at his rim, and the heat of Sam slowly, _slowly_ , opens up to him. Even though he's loosened himself well, he's tight, so deliciously tight, squeezing the head of his cock bit by bit. The heat is so intense, so incredibly _burning_ that Gabriel doesn't even realize when he's through, and if it weren't for him holding on tight, Sam would have fallen right down his shaft. "F-Fuck. S-Sam," he puffs, unable to form a sentence, meaning _You feel so good, so fucking good, and I can't--I need you sheathed right the fuck now_ in those two words. 

"It's fine, I'm fine, let me down," Sam responds, equally breathless, and Gabriel lowers him until his wrists relax and Sam is sitting _right_ in Gabriel's lap, impaled on his fucking dick. "Oh _god_ yes," Sam moans, dropping his head back. His hole twitches around Gabriel, adjusting to the intrusion, and _oh jesus fuck_ it takes every ounce of willpower not to pound him into another realm. Even so, he bounces against him, just little, _little_ jerking motions that he can't seem to stop. He just feels _so fucking good_ and Gabriel is so hard and he's been--he's been _waiting_ for this and-and he can't--

"C-Can't stop. 'M sorry, I'm sorry. Am I--? Are you--?" 

Sam's head is still back, his eyes screwed shut. " _Ngh_ , I'm fine. I'm fine. J-Just this. Just this for a second. Just--"

"Y-Yeah, I can--I can just--" he bounces a little harder without trying, fucks a little deeper. "Ooh, god, I'm sorry. S-Sorry." But he keeps doing it, those little jerks that aren't quite as little, and he needs to calm down. _Calm down. Gabriel, CALM DOWN_. While you fuck your best friend in his tight, hot--

"--Perfect little--squeezing me so good-- _Mmff_ \-- _nngh_ , Sam, are you--?" His hips jerk hard; he curses. "Sorry!"

"G-Gabe," Sam commands, latching onto his shoulders and finally tipping his head forward. "Stop. Apologizing."

"Oh--( _oh yes_ )--. Sor--Sam," he corrects. And Sam looks at him and, like, _almost_ laughs. He breathes deep and his lips twitch as Gabriel merrily fucks into his ass in little--well, not quite as little--jerks. "You good?" 

"Ye-Yes! Oh yes! Fuck, there," Sam's knees bend around him, heels digging into his back, and _fuck those legs. Wrapped. Around him._

"Here?" Gabriel gasps and slides his fingers up Sam's crack to get a better grip on his ass, squeezing the halves of his ass and _feeling_ his cock plunge into Sam with the edges of his pinky fingers. And _goddamn_ if that isn't hot. 

"Yes!" Sam quivers, hands and arms tight and gripping around Gabriel's shoulders. "That's, _huh_ , fucking perfect-- _Nnn_. That's--" Gabriel pumps his hips and slams into the spot again, and a curse bursts from Sam's lips. "Jesus _christ_ so good!"

Sam's squeezing him tight, body wrapped around him, and his collar bones are just _right there_ , fucking bouncing up and down with their movement but close enough to lick. Salt and Sam burst over his tastebuds, and Gabriel moans, tongue swiping over hot flesh. His head nods as his lips press to bouncing flesh, and he nips and sucks right up to the base of his throat, just over his collar bone, and sinks his teeth in. 

"Oh _fuck_ , Gabriel yes! Oh god, I'm close. I'm so fucking close already," Sam pants. "Been waiting for this-- _angh_ \--s-so long, been wa-wanting you, G-abe! You sexy, sweet, funny, awesome, f-fucking--g-goddamnit--creature!"

Pleasure swoops in Gabriel's belly, and he looks up at Sam. "Kiss me." Instantly Sam turns his face down and falls on Gabriel, their fucking making their lips join and separate and halfway miss, groaning and gasping in between. Teeth snag lips, and tongues dart and dance, and it's wild and crazy and messy and _god_ Gabriel's gonna come.

And it's really beautiful timing actually, because Sam beats him to it. And it's like, out of the blue, like Sam wasn't even expecting it, because he barely gets a gasp of his name when Sam siezes up. His body stiffens tight, his hole squeezes him _so hard,_ and then Sam's wailing. White hot cum shoots all over both of their stomachs, and the fact of that coupled with the tightness of Sam's clenching hole is all it takes for Gabriel to fly over with him. He's whining and grabbing onto Sam with shuddering fingers as he pumps his dick, and his come, in Sam's hole. 

It feels like it goes on for ages, just clawing at Sam as Sam clings to him, both of them shuddering through their orgasms, wild with pleasure.

When he comes to, so to speak, he finds they've somehow ended up lying on their sides, still facing each other and basically wrapped around one another, but no longer joined at the... ass. Sam is blinking at him, lazily, on a pillow, a soft orgasm smile on his lips as he, almost imperceptibly, twitches every few seconds. _That's Sam. Sam lying beside me. Smiling at me. Naked, sated... beautiful._

Gabriel's limbs feel heavy and relaxed, but he pulls his hand up to Sam's face anyway. Pushes through his sweaty locks. He inches across the pillow so he can kiss his lips. Sam responds, just as gently, softly, weak, relaxed. They kiss chastely for... a while. Gabriel isn't sure how long, before he pulls back a little bit.

"Hmm," Sam hums, shifting a little bit, propping himself up on an elbow. Gabriel doesn't like it immediately and he _wills_ him back down. "I should get us a rag."

"Nope, nope, I'm getting it."

"Gabe--"

"You don't dare move a muscle," Gabriel gently commands, untangling himself from Sam. Sam humphs, but it's a happy sound as he settles on the bed. Gabriel stares at him, butt naked and covered in cum, as he retreats and thinks to himself, _How did I get this lucky?_

The floor is covered in their discarded clothing, so Gabriel steps carefully as he exits the room and stumbles into the bathroom. The reflection that looks back at him is still flushed. Bright eyes. Seriously freaking crazy sex hair, not to mention a million other little details that shows him thoroughly satisfied. 

For a second, he just smiles into his hands.

It only takes a minute or two to clean himself up before he spunges the cloth clean and resaturates it with warm, almost hot, water. When he returns to the bedroom Sam has fallen onto his back, so Gabriel climbs up to him, and gently, but very thoroughly cleans up his Sleepy Sam before crawling back off the bed. 

A whining sound follows him. "Where are you going?" 

Gabriel chuckles. "I'll be right back." He scoops up Sam's sullied boxers as well as his own, and his discarded socks and shoes at the base of the bed, stops of to drop the washcloth and boxers in the hamper, and settles his shoes and Sam's neatly by the door. He flicks off the living room light and returns to the bedroom toting his shirt and Sam's pants, scooping up the rest of the clothes in the bedroom and dropping them into the chair in the corner. Then he carefully starts folding them one by one under Sam's curious eyes, organizing them into little stacks side by side, rearranging from smallest at the top to largest at the bottom as he goes.

"What-What are you doing?" Sam asks, softly, as if he already knows as Gabriel carefully and precisely folds Sam's pants, his belt already in a coil on the chair.

"Don't lie to me and tell me you weren't going to keep thinking about these until you gave in and left my side to fold them. I'm just being proactive." He picks up Sam's dressy black shirt and tries very carefully to fold it in sharp lines. It's being difficult, though, so he shakes it out and readies to do it again, fingers at the collar and sleeves.

"I love you."

The shirt barely makes sound as it slips through Gabriel's fingers and falls to the carpet in a rumple. Did...? He knows he heard that right. I mean, he had to, it was so clear. He couldn't have imagin-- Like an idiot he stands there with his hands frozen in the air. 

Oh, he's finally got his neck to work, and he's looking over at Sam and Sam's... practically wringing his hands. "Shit, I'm sorry, too soon. Way too soon." He covers his beautiful, stupid face and runs his fingers through his hair. _He loves me. He loves me._

Gabriel's climbing into bed before he even really thinks about it. "Pretend I didn't say anything okay? Just-Just forge--" Gabriel grabs his face and covers his stupid, beautiful mouth with his own. _Shut up, shut up, you idiot_. He kisses him deep, desperately trying to convey everything he's feeling right now. _God, I'm the luckiest man in the world. Sam, Sam._ When they're both completely breathless he nuzzles against his face and presses their foreheads together. 

"I don't want to pretend." Sam stiffens at the words, clearly not getting his point, so he hurries to add. "I don't want to forget, you wonderful moron." This next part's especially important, so Gabriel pulls away to look into his eyes, nervous, anxious. _Confession night, remember_? He takes a breath. "I love you too."

Big eyes look up at him under a tight forehead and tense brows. And he really, really just wants to kiss those wrinkles away. "Yeah?"

Gabriel's lips quirk. "Yeah."

Sam stares at him, just stares at him for one long drawn out second. And then his face smooths and his eyes fill with something bright, and he draws him back into a kiss. "I mean..." Gabriel murmurs, turning a fraction of an inch and kissing those lips again. "You already stole all my tech."

Sam snorts and chuckles and kisses him. "And your stash of jewelry."

" _Gold_ jewelry."

"Mmm..."

God, his lips are irresistible. "Not to mention--To-To mention my pillowtop and quilt."

"Yup."

"I liked that quilt too."

"Not sorry."

Gabriel presses into those lips, kissing him deep. "Might as well keep my heart while you're at it."

Again, a snort, a laugh, a hand stroking through his hair. "Gabriel... that was terrible."

"You love me," Gabriel counters. 

Sam grins and it's the best sight in the whole entire world. "Yeah, I do."

Gabriel doesn't know how they ended up this way after being so afraid of losing Sam for so long, but he's going to ride on the tails of his luck for as long as he possibly can. When he finishes folding the clothes and winds up back on Sam's chest, drawing shapes into his skin, he murmurs, "Yeah, I don't know if I'll get used to this. We'll have to do it a few more times."

"Mm," Sam agrees with a grin. "Lots and lots and lots and lots of times."

"No telling how long it will take."

Sam breathes out a sigh like he's suffering to say it, but he's grinning and holding Gabriel tight when he whispers, "Might just take the rest of forever."


End file.
